Personal Log
by grenouille7777
Summary: At the end of the movie, we see all these young officers and cadets suddenly thrust from the Academy into the 'hot seats' of the Federation's newest flagship. What would they be thinking?
1. The Captain

Personal Log

by

grenouille

**Disclaimer:** Sadly, all rights to this universe are the property of Paramount and, presumably, Gene's and Majel's estates. Oh, yeah, and all of the many other industries who have benefitted from Star Trek. May The Great Bird of the Galaxy forgive me for beaming into his world and corrupting his characters.

**A/N:** I was watching the DVD of the 2009 Star Trek remake with my son late the other night. After dutifully sending him off to bed, I went into the kitchen for a late-night snack when my mind wandered off someplace strange (yeah, I know, not unusual) and wondered what Jim Kirk's reaction to his sudden promotion would be like. This is the result.

I need to thank my good friend, Vern (aka Herman Tumbleweed), for all his efforts into knocking my Federation Standard into shape. Without said help, this would be much less readable. Don't forget to go look and see where his mind has wandered off to, as well.

The Captain

The newly-minted young Captain James T. Kirk entered his quarters and flopped exhaustedly in the comfortable chair at his desk, glad that the long debriefing after the shake-down cruise of the Federation's newest starship – and even newer crew – was over. He scrubbed at his face with both hands for a moment before reaching into the bottom drawer and removing a shot glass and the half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels he'd bought to celebrate his promotion. The twenty-five-year-old Terran poured himself a shot and sipped it slowly, relishing the smooth warmth and fire of the amber liquid as it relaxed his frazzled nerves. Leaning back, he considered turning in for the night, but realized that there was still one more thing he should do while the day's events were still fresh in his mind.

He sat upright just long enough to activate the computer terminal built into the utilitarian desktop. Leaning back again, this time placing his feet up on the desktop, he addressed the machine: "Computer; begin recording. Captain's Log, Stardate 2258.72. We just finished the final debriefing from our shakedown cruise and Starfleet Command was suitably impressed. We've been given a week of shore-leave before receiving orders for our first extended mission. Hopefully, it'll be more interesting and easier on the ship than our first outing. Computer; end recording."

Kirk took another sip of his whiskey, lost in thought. He suddenly realized that he still had yet another duty to perform before he could call it a night: one that he didn't particularly care for.

"Computer; begin recording. Captain's Personal Log, Stardate 2258.72. Well, it's official. We are now a real crew. Not only have I become the youngest starship captain in Starfleet history, we have the overall youngest command crew, as well. Unfortunately, I suspect that they're gonna expect a lot more out of us than they do the others. That's okay; we'll show 'em.

"Actually, I have a lot of hope for this crew. In spite of the way we came together, we all seem to mesh well – even with the differences in personality and temperament.

"Speaking of spite, I guess I have to remember to give Admiral Pike a big 'I told ya so' before we leave. I **told** him it would only be three years. Of course, I was talking about becoming an officer rather than captain at the time, but this is even better. Only genius-level repeat offender in the Midwest, my ass."

Kirk paused and gathered his thoughts while taking another drink. "I really don't get the purpose of these personal logs. I mean… I get the psychobabble and I do 'em 'cause it's required of all officers of Command Grade, but they seem like a big waste of time to me. Bones says that they're a good way to vent frustration, but it seems to create more frustration than it relieves. But then, Bones usually knows what he's talking about – unless it has to do with women. I can't even begin to imagine what his ex-wife must have been like to get him to start a career in an environment that he's so plainly terrified of just to get away from her.

"He's a great doctor, though I wish he'd lay off of those damned hypo-sprays. They hurt! He certainly knows his stuff and has turned out to be a hell of a good friend. Amazing since the first thing he ever said to me was that he was gonna puke on me. I'm really glad he didn't.

"Speaking of friends; oddly enough, Spock and I seem to be developing… something – if not a friendship, then at least a state of mutual non-aggression. I just wish that it didn't take the destruction of his home planet to get the stick out of his ass. He's actually a decent enough guy, but he really needs to lighten up. I'm surprised that Uhura is so attached to him.

"God… Uhura. What a fine specimen of womanhood. What the hell does a hottie like her see in that pointy-eared SOB? At least I finally know what her first name is, although I can't believe it took me two weeks to realize that, as captain, I have access to her personnel file. I'm not planning on telling her, though. We'll at least still have that little game to play. Besides, the damned regulations prohibit me from fraternizing with the crew. I wonder how Spock got around that at the Academy? Lucky bastard! At least I've managed to stop drooling every time I see her – or think about just how talented her tongue must be."

Kirk dropped his feet back to the deck and poured himself another shot. He stood, and began to pace as he continued, "I'm really not too sure what to think about Spock. If I hadn't met the older one – and he hadn't done that mind thingy while we were marooned on Delta Vega – I'd never have believed that we wouldn't kill each other at the first opportunity, let alone become friends. I'm kinda glad he did that, though. Admittedly, the Jim Kirk he knew was very different than I am, but it was interesting to see just how much trust grew between us – them – whatever. Without seeing, and feeling, his memories, I'd never have believed it possible. Of course, the Spock I'm currently working with isn't the same, either. But, there is hope that we can at the very least get along well enough to make the _Enterprise_ the finest ship in the fleet.

"And maybe I can find out how the hell he managed to get the hottest lieutenant in the fleet. I wonder if there's another hot xenolinguist around somewhere?

"In any case, I actually think things will work out well. From talking to him while planning and executing our recent little jaunt – and of course, the older Spock's memories again – I know that the man's a certified genius – even for a Vulcan. Between Bones, Spock and I, I don't think there's anything we won't be able to deal with."

Jim stopped pacing, swallowed the last of his whiskey before placing the empty shot glass on a nearby table, and flopped onto his bunk with his hands behind his head. "Of course," he continued, "it helps that we seem to have lucked out and had the best of the Class of 2258 assigned to us. Other than her talented tongue, dear Miss Uhura was at the top of her class in both Communications and Computer Sciences as well. That's not to mention that she has an incredible singing voice. I remember when I walked into the Officers' Lounge a couple weeks ago and she was singing while Spock was accompanying her on that weird Vulcan harp-like thing. If she's as talented in everything else as she is in what we've seen, then Spock really is a lucky bastard.

"Of course, she's not the only talented crew member. Montgomery Scott is another damned genius. When we got back after the destruction of the Narada, the first thing he did was get into the repair of the _Enterprise_. While everyone else wanted off the ship as soon as possible to recover from what we'd just gone through, Scotty seemed to find it more relaxing to spend the next month fixing 'his lassie'. He hadn't even been officially assigned here yet, but he was off and doing whatever it is that engineers do." The young skipper chuckled. "I guess he wasn't kidding when he said he wanted to get his hands on the _Enterprise's_ 'ample nacelles'. I'm glad that my first crew request as captain was for him to be Chief Engineer. From the reports I've read – and rumors I've picked up – Scotty drove not only the Spacedock repair crew nuts, but the original design team as well. As a result, his suggestions have already improved the ship's performance and efficiency over thirty percent.

"I suddenly seem to recall from Old Spock's memories that Scotty was instrumental to his _Enterprise's_ successes, too – and just as possessive of her. In fact, his _Enterprise_ eventually ended up with the same senior staff that we have; just much later in everybody's careers. That's kinda reassuring in a weird way. I mean, knowing that the crew we have was instrumental in so many major events in a future that hasn't happened yet, and won't because it's not the same future… Shit! This is just too damned confusing! Well, Temporal Dynamics **was** my worst class.

"Yeah, we're luckier than hell. Take Hikaru Sulu for instance. In a ship the size of this one, which he only had a basic familiarity and no real experience with, he managed to twist and turn it through the mangled and scattered remains of the seven starships that arrived at Vulcan ahead of us with minimal damage. Now that he's had some more experience with her, I'd bet that he could repeat that without even scratching the paint. I was originally concerned when he said that his Advanced Combat training consisted of Fencing, but he sure kicked those Romulans' asses. I checked and he, too, was top of his class in Piloting and Navigation. Several other classes as well.

"Pavel Chekov must be the biggest enigma in the crew. He really **is** only seventeen – I checked. How he even got admitted to the Academy is beyond me, but he completed his training in record time. He may be young, but he's another damned genius. I wonder if he was on the path to become another genius-level repeat offender? Kinda high-strung and excitable, but a good kid.

"I hate to admit it, but I even pulled Bones' records. For a man that hates space as much as he does, he sure knows a lot about it. Only thirty-one years old and he's one of Starfleet's foremost experts in Xenobiology. In fact, Bones is one of only three Terran doctors authorized to care for joined Trills. His ex must really have been something else to be able to chase him away**,** as he's already done so much successful research – some of it while still in med school – that any planet-side facility would gladly give him whatever he wanted to have him on their staff. I'm glad to have him aboard and I'm even more glad he's my friend. Old Spock had a lot of respect for his McCoy, too.

"I should really talk to this time's Spock about all of this since he can do that funky mind stuff, too. Maybe he can help me tone down these memories or feelings or whatever the hell they are. Spock admitted that the older one convinced him to stay in Starfleet, rather than join the new colony, although he didn't tell me why. It's none of my business, of course, but maybe it would be good for both of us. I dunno; it's pretty personal, and Spock's a pretty private guy. Maybe, though…

"Anyway, I guess I should take this next week to be a regular person for the last time since next week I get to start being a big-time Starfleet Captain for real. Maybe try and track down Gaila for one last go-round. Could be fun, as long as she forgets about all that love shit."

Kirk looked up as the door chime sounded. He paused for a moment, then took a deep breath. "Guess Bones was right; this did make me feel a little bit better. But I'll never admit it to him. Computer; end recording." He looked towards the door and called, "Come in."

Kirk sat up as the lanky figure of Leonard McCoy entered his quarters. "What's up, Jim?"

"Nothing, really. I was just dictating one of those stupid personal logs that make the Fleet shrinks so happy. What about you?"

"Good, good." McCoy rubbed his hands together as he probed further. "Make you feel any better?"

"Meh, not really, but I'm getting used to it. Got any plans for the week?"

"Nah, just gonna relax and possibly have a mint julep or two. Maybe try and see my daughter before we leave, if my ex isn't being a bigger bitch than usual." The generally relaxed doctor's irritation was evident as his typically slight Southern drawl had become much more pronounced. "Hopefully she's off-planet somewhere far away and Joanna's with her grandparents."

"Well, save a couple of days for some real fun. I'm thinking of looking up Gaila. Maybe she'll have a friend." Jim's wide smirk gave evidence to the kind of fun he had in mind.

"Who's Gaila?"

"You remember her. She was Uhura's roommate at the Academy."

Bones snorted and shook his head. "Riiiiight. The Orion girl. Thanks, but no thanks. I've had enough of women to last a lifetime. Or maybe two."

Jim grasped his chest in mock shock and outrage. "You can **never** have enough of women, Bones! You just have to not **marry** them. Believe me, buddy, they're much more fun that way."

"Maybe. Maybe not. Anyway, just thought I'd pop in and say good night."

"Okay, but keep those days open. Don't want you to get as tight-assed as Spock, now, do we?"

"Lord, no!" He chuckled lightly. "Orion, you said? Hm, maybe… G'night, Jim."

"'Night, Bones."

After the doctor left, Jim got undressed and climbed into his comfortable bunk, thinking, "_Gotta get that man laid. Had enough of women, my ass._" As he fell deeper towards sleep, one last thought crossed his one-track mind, "_I wonder if I rate a hot, young yeoman…_"


	2. The First Officer

Personal Log

by

grenouille

**Disclaimer:** Sadly, all rights to this universe are the property of Paramount and, presumably, Gene's and Majel's estates. Oh yeah, and all of the many other industries who have benefitted from Star Trek. May The Great Bird of the Galaxy forgive me for beaming into his world and corrupting his characters.

**A/N:** I'd like to thank my good friend, Vern (aka Herman Tumbleweed), for all his efforts into knocking my Federation Standard into shape. Without said help, this would be much less readable. Don't forget to go look and see where his mind has wandered off to, as well.

**Beta note:** Looking to see where my mind has wandered off to can be hazardous to your health, and, according to my betas, damaging to keyboard and other peripherals.

The First Officer

A tall, slender, pointed-eared man entered his quarters and sighed deeply as he relaxed into an odd-looking chair. He closed his dark eyes to the unusual light and hot, dry air that reflected the conditions on his native planet – a planet that no longer existed due to an insane Romulan's obsession with revenge – and attempted his daily meditation.

After several minutes, Spock sighed again: the only outward sign of the turbulent emotions that were still bubbling uncomfortably close to the surface since the death of his mother and the destruction of his home planet, Vulcan, by Nero. It was pointless to continue his meditations tonight as there was still far too much on his mind. Accepting this, he moved to his desk to perform his few remaining duties for the day.

Activating his computer console, he began, "Computer; begin recording. First Officer's Log, Stardate 2258.72. The debriefing sessions regarding our shakedown cruise were finally completed this evening. Whereas there were some few minor recommendations for possible improvement; Starfleet Command indicated their overall satisfaction with the crew's performance, as well as that of the ship, itself. We have been cleared for regular duty and will be receiving our orders in approximately one week. In the meantime, the entire crew has been granted that week as shore leave. Computer; end recording."

Spock steepled his fingers in front of his face and closed his eyes in preparation for his next entry – one that he failed to see the relevance of. Opening his eyes and dropping his hands, he stood and walked to the food synthesizer. After punching a few buttons, he returned to his desk with a steaming cup of Vulcan spice tea.

"Computer;" he again addressed the console, "begin recording. First Officer's Personal Log, Stardate 2258.72. As usual, I am amazed at the bureaucracy involved in Starfleet Operations. Even though I know empirically it is not true; subjectively, it seemed that the resulting debriefing sessions took more time than did the mission itself.

"I find it odd that a race that is so illogical and impulsive finds it necessary to overanalyze every possible detail of a mission that, in the grand scheme of things, was of no real significance. Of course, I must admit to myself that my own logic is still somewhat uncertain as a result of the events stemming from Nero's incursion into our time." Spock paused to take a deep drink of the fragrant tea.

"Nero. I continue to find myself filled with rage at the thought of his actions – a rage that I am still struggling to control. I am grateful to my older counterpart for his assistance and his intervention in my life. His willingness to share his thoughts surprised me, but it was helpful and very revealing. He has experienced much of the same turmoil throughout his life and has managed to reach a seeming equilibrium between his logic and his emotions. I will strive to reach that same balance as it seems, for me – and him, of course – that it would be the healthier alternative as we are the product of two very dissimilar worlds.

"His thoughts were quite enlightening. In reviewing those parts of his life that he was willing to share, I can understand why he encouraged me to remain in Starfleet. He has lived an eventful and most fulfilling life in spite of the various traumas he has suffered. Although I occasionally still have doubts, I believe that I have made the correct decision.

"I was especially honored that he also chose to share many of his feelings with me as it is something that is simply not done among Vulcans; at least not with those who are not intimately related. But then, I must remember that he and I are essentially the same being and, therefore, cannot possibly be more intimately related. That must be why I was as open with my own thoughts and feelings in return as my mind obviously recognized the connection.

"Even though it must be true, as the mind-meld, by its very nature, precludes the possibility of prevarication, I find it difficult to fathom the relationships that developed between my counterpart and the counterparts of Kirk and McCoy from his time. Granted, they are different people due to the unique experiences in their lives, yet my counterpart is confident that these same bonds of respect and friendship not only can be formed, but necessarily **must** be formed. I do not comprehend the necessity, but I will accept his assurances and wait and see what occurs.

"After all, it would not be logical to argue with oneself.

"On reflection, I can see a possible… camaraderie forming with Dr. McCoy. He is an intelligent and knowledgeable human – virtually unsurpassed in his field – in spite of his various minor bigotries and overt displays of impulsive and excessive emotionalism. My counterpart had an intriguing relationship with the doctor which makes me wonder just **why** he considered him a friend at all. However, I suspect that this is one of those times where the Old Earth adage, 'You had to have been there' applies.

"I find it curious that our current command crew mirrors the one that eventually formed on that other _Enterprise_ – albeit several years later. Spock holds them all in the highest regard and, in most cases, I can understand why. They are an extremely talented group of individuals and I am pleased to have them as my shipmates. I am confident that this crew will be successful at whatever Starfleet requires of us. Computer; pause recording."

The young Vulcan officer paused to collect his thoughts while drinking more of his tea. It was occasionally difficult to separate the elder Spock's memories and feelings from his own and he, from time to time, wondered if Kirk was experiencing the same difficulties. As the Terran had most likely had no experience with Vulcan mind techniques, it was likely he'd need assistance in dealing with the disparate set of memories that would have invaded his subconscious. Of course, Spock had the additional difficulties of these memories being, in an odd way, **his** own memories from a different time. The vagaries of temporal dynamics were too complicated even for Vulcans to fully comprehend as they were particularly chaotic in nature. "_It seems,_" he thought, "_as if we were all fated to be together._" Spock mentally berated himself for thinking such foolishness. Philosophers on nearly every inhabited planet had debated the existence of such deities as Fate, yet there was still no corroborating evidence to support their existence.

Of course, there was also none to refute it, either.

With a deep sense of resignation, Spock continued his log entry, "Computer; resume recording. I am at a complete loss as to what to think of James Kirk. He is quite intelligent and creative in his solutions to the various challenges we faced, yet his brash disregard for anything even remotely related to common sense is quite disturbing. However, these very qualities that the elder Spock thought so highly of seem to manifest themselves differently; logically due to the differences in his childhood.

"I have to admit that his final solution to the Nero problem was successful and, in a personal way, eminently satisfying. I was impressed that he was willing to show compassion at the end when few, myself included, would be so inclined. Perhaps there is hope for him after all.

"Also, it may be wise to inquire if he has had any difficulties as a result of his mind-meld with the other Spock. It may be that we can assist each other if that is the case; feasibly leading to a greater understanding of each other in the process. That is something that would most likely lead to a greater efficiency in the ship's performance and possibly to whatever friendship that Spock is so certain of. However, I feel that I should remind him that many species – Vulcans especially - find his need for physical contact most uncomfortable.

"It's curious that I find myself so drawn to discovering these friendships. I wonder if it's due to the meld or something deep within my Human half?

"It's also curious that in spite of the equal respect he had for the rest of our command group, Spock did not have the same feelings for them as he did with Kirk and McCoy, although he trusted them all implicitly. Montgomery Scott is, and was in the other time stream, an amazingly knowledgeable and creative engineer. The uproar that he caused in the Engineering Group over his proposed changes to the _Enterprise's_ specifications has had repercussions all the way back to the original design team, causing them to rethink ship designs completely. The fact that he made those changes without the appropriate authorization should have been a mark against him, but that was, seemingly, offset by the remarkably effective nature of the changes. I suspect that he will get on well with our Captain.

"Much the same could be said of Hikaru Sulu and Pavel Chekov. Other than his error in forgetting to deactivate the external inertial dampeners before going to warp, Sulu's piloting of the Enterprise through the wreckage at Vulcan was extraordinary. Chekov seems to have an intuitive ability to analyze and adapt to a crisis with an ease that should be well beyond his youth. His rapid and ingenious adaptation of Transporter formulas in order to beam Kirk and Sulu back to the ship while they were in free-fall was exceptional as was his tactical analysis which led us to our successful confrontation with the Narada."

He paused and let out another long-suffering sigh.

"Vulcan. I am once again reminded that my home no longer exists and I am a member of an endangered species. I… I **feel** for the other Spock as he not only had to witness the destruction, but was blamed for it by Nero. I cannot fathom how he can remain so… so **Vulcan** through it all. I now have a greater understanding of why our race embraced the teachings of Surak so long ago as there is a part of me that still wants to perform unthinkable acts even though the guilty parties no longer live. What is especially painful is that I suspect Mother would have approved of my counterpart's blending of emotion and logic – taking the best of both. I think that she would also have approved of my intent to reach that same balance.

"I do not know if Father has had any contact with the elder Spock and am not certain how that would progress. I suspect that they will interact to some extent, even if only as part of the establishment of the new colony.

"I also now more fully comprehend many of the things that Father tried to impart to me in my youth as a result of his admission of his love for Mother. His logic must be in a similar turmoil at this time and I am not certain how, or even if, I can be of any assistance to him. Perhaps he and the other Spock will find peace in the rebuilding of our race. I am… pleased… that he took the time to see me and pass along his satisfaction before he left to inspect the planet that Spock suggested. Hopefully, I will meet with him again before we start our mission. I realize just how Human that sounds, but I think that Mother would like it." He stopped and took a deep breath in an attempt to control the increasing turbulence of his emotions.

"For myself, I am appreciative of Nyota's presence in my life – especially through these times. She has been of great assistance in my efforts to regain emotional equilibrium. Her instinctual understanding of emotions and her overwhelming passion have quite often, of late, brought me back from an all-consuming rage which, unchecked, could have led to some rather destructive behavior on my part. She brings a comfort unknown to me since my early childhood and of a type that was previously only shown by Mother. I can now truly appreciate why Father, against Vulcan tradition, took a Human wife.

"I do, however, find it rather uncomfortable to attribute to Mother the same passions that I find so intriguing in Nyota. Nevertheless, I'm reasonably certain that, if they were in any way comparable, Father fully appreciated them. I have no doubt that my next _pon farr_ will be much more comfortable and, quite possibly, even enjoyable.

"Perhaps, in this small way, traditional Vulcan isolationism is acting against itself. I am quite certain that my counterpart – and perhaps, if pressed, even Father – would agree with me."

The door chime rang softly, interrupting his thoughts. Spock pressed a button on his desk, opening the door, and glanced up to see a slender woman of Terran African descent enter the room. He briefly held a hand up for silence as he concluded with, "In one vital respect, this has all been a significant learning experience which has caused me to understand a great deal – mostly about myself. Computer; end recording."

As his hand lowered, she quickly crossed the room, flowed into his lap and kissed him long and ardently. His mind was split between simply enjoying the event and analyzing the sensations of her full lips pressing against his and the differences in the texture of their individual tongues as they battled for dominance.

Hers won – this time.

When they finally pulled apart, Nyota rubbed her head against the Vulcan's chest much like a cat would. Softly, she said in Vulcan, "I know that we were going to wait until we all left the ship tomorrow, but I felt that you needed me." The young xenolinguist tilted her head back and looked into his eyes, continuing in the same language, "Was I wrong?"

"No," he replied, equally as quietly. "These personal logs often have a disturbing effect on me. Thank you, Nyota."

"You know you don't ever need to thank me, Spock. I love you and that's reason enough."

"Yes, I know." To her surprise, he hugged her firmly in response. "In this case, however, I feel that it was beneficial. In reviewing all that has happened in the past several weeks – including how my emotions were affected – I have come to understand certain aspects of them more completely."

The young lieutenant's eyes widened in curiosity as her lover continued, "I can honestly, and with as complete an understanding as seems to be possible for me, say 'I love you, too.'"

Tears of joy fell swiftly down Uhura's cheeks at that admission. She stood and, taking his hand, drew him up, guiding him to the bunk in the far corner as she unfastened the sheer silk dress she'd put on before leaving her quarters to check on him**,** and let it drop to the deck. Placing her arms around his neck, she brought her lips back to his, whispering just as they were about to meet, "Show me…"


	3. The Chief Medical Officer

Personal Log

by

grenouille

**Disclaimer:** Sadly, all rights to this universe are the property of Paramount and, presumably, Gene's and Majel's estates. Oh yeah, and all of the many other industries who have benefitted from Star Trek. May The Great Bird of the Galaxy forgive me for beaming into his world and corrupting his characters.

**A/N:** I'd like to thank my good friend, Vern (aka Herman Tumbleweed), for all his efforts into knocking my Federation Standard into shape. Without said help, this would be much less readable. Don't forget to go look and see where his mind has wandered off to, as well.

The Chief Medical Officer

Leonard H. McCoy MD, PhD (and a host of other letters, initials and acronyms) flopped onto the lounge chair in his new home on Deck Nine of the _USS Enterprise_ after leaving his friend's quarters. "_Don't know what the hell possessed me to take this job,"_ he thought morosely. _"I have no business being here. Could've had a great research career, but noooooo! Had'ta go and join Starfleet."_ With a groan, he got up and, reaching for his desk, activated the computer console. "Computer; begin recording. Chief Medical Officer's Log, Stardate 2258.72. Finally finished our debriefing and have been approved for full duty. Sickbay and the medical staff rated exceptional mention, although I haven't figured out how they determined that as we really didn't do anything. We'll be receiving our orders after a week of shore leave, then off to God only knows where. Computer; end recording."

The young doctor reached into a cabinet and withdrew a bottle of Saurian brandy and a snifter. He poured himself a generous portion, taking a large drink, before sitting at his desk and addressing the computer once again. "Computer; begin recording. Chief Medical Officer's Personal log, Stardate 2258.72. Well, Dad always told me I was too smart for my own damn good. Now look at me: about to go carousing through the galaxy to places no one knows, for no other reason than to see what the hell's out there.

"This isn't what I'd planned for my life after med school; no, not at all. I just wanted to be an old country doctor and have a small practice somewhere quiet and maybe do a little research on the side. Have a wife and kids to come home to in the evening. But no, I had to marry a bitch that makes a Klingon look soft and cuddly and a Ferengi look generous." He took another deep swallow of his brandy. "Now I get to spend the next several years hoping and praying that Scotty's as good at keeping the ship together as he seems. And with Jim in command, he'll probably need to be. Damn fool!

"Actually, I like Jim. He's good people. As stupid a stunt as it was, I gotta admit, his solution for the Kobayashi Maru was ingenious. If he continues to show that kind of creativity and determination, we just might get out of this alive. Maybe." He snorted softly to himself.

"In fact, I have a lot of faith in him. The rest of the crew, too. We've been blessed with a talented, if eclectic bunch. I still have misgivings about Chekov, though. He's awfully young and I'm not sure how he'll handle the stress. He's smarter'n hell, though, and if he can keep his head, he'll be okay. But he's just so damn excitable… I guess we'll see."

McCoy blew out a loud breath and took another large gulp of his brandy. "Goddamnit, I don't know what possessed me to do this. If man were meant to be in space, we wouldn't have to breathe air. I hope Jim doesn't get us killed, or at least Scotty can keep the ship together. He should be able to, if the scuttlebutt I've heard about the shitstorm he raised with the other engineers is any indication." McCoy swallowed the rest of the contents of his glass and poured himself another drink.

"Maybe Spock can keep Jim in line. I sure as hell hope so. At least they seem to get along now. I'd hate to see what would happen if they were still at each other's throats like they were. But then, from what Jim told me about what he learned from the old Spock, the three of us were nearly inseparable in his time." He shook his head in disbelief. "I can't imagine that at all. Well, Jim I can see, but Spock's a strange one. I mean, I can see doing some research with him 'cause, frankly, he's brilliant – even for a Vulcan. He even **turned down** a place in the Vulcan Science Academy. But friendship? Must've been one of the most dysfunctional friendships on record."

The young doctor paused for a moment, then continued morosely, "But then, look at my marriage. That's gotta be one for the dysfunctional record books. I still haven't figured out how I ended up married to her in the first place. No, that's not true: it had to have been the sex. If nothing else, she was great at that. Sometimes I'd swear she was part Deltan. That would explain why I was insane enough to marry her.

"At least I got Joanna out of it, even if I can't see enough of her. In a way I'm glad she's such a crappy mother and left the kid with her folks. I can still see my daughter occasionally and they're good, down-to-earth people and don't hold anything against me. Hopefully I can see her before we leave. Gotta remember to send them a message in the morning.

"Anyway, I guess I just have to live with these decisions. This really will be a wonderful experience, though. Danger aside, I really couldn't ask for a better research opportunity than this. I knew I'd get to see some strange things in Starfleet, but really didn't expect to get posted to the damned flagship of the Fleet, let alone as the head doctor.

"I just hope Jim doesn't get us all killed." The native of Earth's 'Old South' took another deep drink of the amber nectar as his thoughts drifted for a long moment.

"In all honesty, I really do think we have a good chance of pulling this off. From what Jim told me about what he learned from the old Spock, this is the same damned crew that saved the galaxy on a regular basis. Now, I know that that was a gross exaggeration as no one can be that damned important, but just being a part of history at all is damned impressive. Jim's take is that since it's already happened once, we stand a good chance of doing it again. The trouble with that argument is, and God help me that I'm actually agreeing with Spock, that we're not the same people and we're not in the same time. Even if everything's the same until Nero showed up, it's all been very different since.

"I had an interesting discussion with Spock about this very thing last week which left me glad that I didn't need to study Temporal Dynamics to get into med school. His take on things was that everything that has happened has simply been coincidence. He'd talked with the other Spock about it and apparently the old guy thinks that there is a reason for everything that happens and that our all being friends is important in some sort of cosmic way." Bones chuckled harshly. "Grand cosmic joke if you ask me, but it **is** quite a coincidence that this is the same crew that eventually served together successfully for so many years in the other timeline.

"At this point, I'll take anything that gives us a better chance of eventually getting home in one piece. But then, we've got a damned good crew, too." He took another deep swallow of his drink.

"One good thing about being the Chief Medical Officer is that you get your choice of who you treat and when you want to see them, you see them; even the Captain. This has given me the chance to speak with, and get to know at least a little, all of our command crew. I gotta say that I'm impressed." He sipped a bit more of the brandy.

"Scotty's obsession with the ship is definitely gonna keep us alive. He really did give the other engineers a lot to think about when he started going crazy during the repairs. I checked his record and the only reason that he was on that god-forsaken rock was 'cause he pissed off an admiral. Stupid bureaucrats.

"Nyota Uhura, other than her questionable taste in men, is a very talented young lady. Like so many of our new young department heads, her IQ's off the charts. Fluent in more languages than I even knew existed and as beautiful a woman as I've ever seen. Why the hell she's so attached to Spock is beyond me. Maybe she can get him to be… I dunno, less of a stick-in-the-mud. He really needs to lighten up.

"But then, that tendency might offset Jim enough to keep us alive.

"Hiraku Sulu and Pavel Chekov are also talented as hell. I can't believe that we didn't take more damage than we did when we first got to Vulcan. The kid was calm and cool while spinning the ship around all that garbage, not to mention getting us away from the Narada and that baby black hole.

"I'm still worried about Chekov, though. This is no place for a seventeen-year-old kid to be; I don't care how smart he is, and he really is. Strangely, his pre-Starfleet records are sealed and he wasn't forthcoming about what was in them. It leads me to believe that there's an extraordinary reason for his being here and I hope it's nothing that will affect his performance.

"Spock is, well… Spock. I'm not sure what to think about him, really. On the surface, he seems like any other Vulcan, but he tends to occasionally show some Human traits. And don't get me started on his physiology. He's such a mash-up of Vulcan and Human that he may as well be his own species. Add to that that weird-assed blood type he has. I just hope he doesn't get hurt before I've figured it all out."

McCoy drained his snifter and toyed with the idea of pouring some more before giving up and placing it on the desk. He stood and began to pace his quarters, unknowingly mimicking his friend's actions from just a short time ago, albeit somewhat more unsteadily.

"Jim's a great friend and I think he will actually make a fine captain. He's already proven that he cares about his people and he's smart enough, I hope, to be able to get us out of whatever he and Starfleet get us into. God, I hope he doesn't get us killed. Computer; end recording."

Bones staggered over to his bunk, stripping out of his uniform in the process and leaving it scattered across the deck. As he stretched out on the bed, he recalled his friend's plans for shore-leave. "_Maybe Jim's got the right idea,_" he thought as he waited for sleep to take him. "_It could be fun to spend some time with an Orion – get my mind off that bitch and get my life back to something approaching normal._" He snorted quietly as he finally dozed off. "_Listen to me, I'm getting to be as much of a perv as Jim; but still, it could be fun…_"


	4. The Chief Communications Officer

Personal Log

by

grenouille

**Disclaimer:** Sadly, all rights to this universe are the property of Paramount and, presumably, Gene's and Majel's estates. Oh yeah, and all of the many other industries who have benefitted from Star Trek. May The Great Bird of the Galaxy forgive me for beaming into his world and corrupting his characters.

**A/N:** I'd like to thank my good friend, Vern (aka Herman Tumbleweed), for all his efforts into knocking my Federation Standard into shape. Without said help, this would be much less readable. Don't forget to go look and see where his mind has wandered off to, as well.

The Chief Communications Officer

Lieutenant Nyota Uhura entered her quarters after another long and redundant debriefing session, glad that it was the last one. Stripping down to her undergarments as soon as the door slid closed behind her, she fell into the overstuffed chair in her quarters and closed her eyes in relaxation.

"_Oh, God,_" she thought, "_just out of the Academy and I'm a Department Head already. How the hell did that happen?_" The beautiful, chocolate-skinned woman chuckled to herself. "_As much as I hate to admit it, it's all because of that idiot, Kirk. If he hadn't gone all cowboy and chased after that crazy Romulan, we'd still be sitting in boring old classes, dreaming of excitement and adventure._" Her expression darkened suddenly and the feelings of amusement disappeared as she considered, "_No, we'd probably have joined those six billion Vulcans in the afterlife – and Nero would have wiped out a good portion of the Federation. Guess the farm__**-**__boy's good for something after all._" Shaking these morbid thoughts out of her mind, she stood and headed toward the sonic shower in preparation for a good night's sleep, wishing that she hadn't agreed with Spock to hold off sleeping together until they headed planetside for what was certain to be their last shore-leave opportunity for a long while.

After the relaxing stimulation of the cleansing sound waves, Nyota remembered that she still had something she needed to do before retiring for the night. Not bothering to dress, she activated her computer console and began, "Computer; begin recording. Chief Communications Officer's Log, Stardate 2258.72. Finally finished the debriefing from our shakedown cruise today. Communications Department came out smelling like roses. Will receive our orders for our first full mission at the end of our week-long shore leave. Hope it's less exciting than the first mission under our new Captain. Computer; end recording." Sighing, she retrieved a glass of fruit juice from the food synthesizer in her quarters and returned to her desk, taking a seat in the comfortable chair.

"Computer; begin recording. Chief Communications Officer's Personal Log, Stardate 2258.72. I knew that someday I'd have to do these, but I thought that it would be a while before I made it that far up the food chain. Oh, well; better a shark than an Aldebaran shellmouth.

"In all honesty, I'm really looking forward to this mission. I got the ship I wanted, in spite of Spock's momentary stupidity, and as a result of this sudden command position, I'll have a front row seat to everything new we discover. I know that Spock was trying to protect me – protect us - but I **did** earn my place on this ship and, even better, we get to experience it all together. I just hope that the captain doesn't object to our relationship. Nah, he may be brash – and more than slightly perverted – but he does seem to be a decent enough guy." She picked up a brush and started to run it through her long, silky hair as she continued with her log entry.

"Actually, I think that most of my attitude towards him is still based on how we met. I mean," she chuckled, "how seriously can you take a guy who uses such cheesy lines to get into your pants, then immediately gets into a fight with a bar full of other cadets? Follow that up with three years of ever-more-obvious flirting culminating in finding him in his underwear with Gaila? Oh well, we'll just have to see what happens.

"As much as I hate to admit it, I think that our chances of a successful mission have increased dramatically with Kirk in command. Sure, he's hot-headed and impulsive, but who knows what we'll find out there? That kind of attitude may be just what we need to survive." The young African stopped working on her hair just long enough to take a sip of her juice.

"He's definitely not stupid. Even while suffering from whatever Dr. McCoy was treating him for, he remembered what I was telling Gaila had happened to the Klingons and was able to figure out that we were being ambushed. I shudder to think what would have happened if Captain Pike hadn't taken him seriously – seriously enough to make him First Officer.

"Too bad he's such a perv." Nyota finished brushing her hair and set the brush down on the desk.

"Spock seems like he's willing to get to know him and work with him, especially after speaking with his older self. He wouldn't give me all of the details, but indicated that the old Spock was adamant that he do so. I don't really understand, but Spock's convinced enough to make the effort and that's good enough for me.

"McCoy is another one he's trying to get to know. I guess that the three of them were friends in the other timeline and the other Spock feels that it's important for my Spock to form these same bonds. I'm not entirely certain how I feel about it, but the older Spock did say that even though he and his Nyota were never more than good friends, he did approve of Spock's and my relationship**,** and he was impressed that my Spock was in touch with his emotions enough to do so. I'm pretty sure there's a compliment in there somewhere. It's so hard to tell with Vulcans, sometimes." After taking another drink of juice, she clasped her hands above her head and stretched her back muscles before wriggling into a more comfortable position.

"I really like the doctor. He's a gentle, caring man who obviously knows his field. While I hope that I never need his services, I'm glad he's here.

"Sulu's a good guy, too. He's quite talented, yet has such a dry, understated sense of humor… I'm sure that it will make the long distances we'll be travelling much more tolerable on the bridge as I find it unlikely that Kirk will keep us quiet like so many captains supposedly do – especially as he'll probably be the loudest one of all of us.

"Chekov kind of makes me nervous. He's so young and excitable and when he gets that way, his Standard is even harder to understand than it already is. Even though I do speak Russian, it's not one of my stronger languages and I doubt that anyone else here does. It would be a shame if, whenever there's an emergency, we had to use the Universal Translator just to talk to our navigator." Amused at the thought, she shook her head and laughed.

Nyota got up from her desk and lay sensuously across her bunk. "Spock has really changed since all of this happened. At first, he was so hard to reach as he dealt with the death of his mother and the destruction of his homeworld. I could see that he was struggling with unaccustomed emotions, but I really didn't know how to help him. I felt so useless. He never consciously tried to force me away, but I could feel the distance growing. It felt so good when he told me that he just appreciated my presence – it was the closest he's ever come to saying that he loves me.

"As much as I wouldn't want to wish what happened on anyone, I'm glad the other Spock showed up. Whatever they talked about, or did in that mind-meld thing, it seemed to help settle my Spock down and he's been more like his old self again, yet somehow… better. He's become more open and, dare I say it, even affectionate – still only in private, but that's okay. It's like he's… more in touch with himself and it's made me love him all the more.

"You wouldn't think it of a Vulcan, but he's always been a caring and attentive partner – and lover. I don't know if all Vulcans are that way or if it's his human side slipping out, but I've always loved it about him. Whatever he's been through has made him even more so. I can't wait for shore-leave so I can find out how else he's changed." A lusty gleam flashed in her dark eyes._ "Too bad Risa's so far away,"_ she mused.

"I really hope that Kirk won't be a stickler for regulations and interfere with our relationship. If anything, it will give him something to tease us about. In spite of his loud, arrogant attitude, I think he's really a caring sort of guy. As much as he was always trying to get some at the Academy, I really doubt he'd begrudge anyone truly finding love. Yes, he's young and hormonal like every other Human male his age but he's no one's fool. He's even lightened up on the flirting with me, even though he **still** keeps asking for my first name. Does he really think that I don't know that he's already pulled my records? All those requests are part of my department, after all." She shook her head in amusement at the young captain's antics. "Must be just a game with him. It's immature as hell, but I can live with it. Maybe we'll become friends as well. Computer; end recording."

The new lieutenant relaxed and started to drift off to sleep, thinking of her new life aboard the Federation's newest ship and her lover. Her sleep gradually became troubled as strange feelings began to invade her dreams. Sitting up, she tried to understand those feelings when she recalled something that Spock had mentioned about Vulcan couples being able to sense each other. Wondering if that was the case, she got up and pulled a sheer silk dress over her nude body and slipped into some comfortable shoes before she left her cabin, heading for Spock's.

She mused hopefully as she padded down the corridor, "_Maybe I'll not be alone tonight after all…"_


End file.
